to the homestead to be broken in. By the time they had thrown
half the crack riders on the station, broken all the bridles,
rolled on all the saddles, and kicked all the dogs, they would be
marketable (and no great bargains) at about thirty shillings a head.

Yet there is no sport in the world to be mentioned in the same volume
as "running horses", and we were very keen on it. All the crack nags
were got as fit as possible, and fed up beforehand;
and on this particular occasion White-when-he's-wanted, being in good trim,
was given a week's hard feed and lent to a harum-scarum fellow from
the Upper Murray, who happened to be working in a survey camp on the run.
How he did open our eyes!

He ran the mob from hill to hill, from range to range,
across open country and back again to the hills, over flats and gullies,
through hop-scrub and stringybark ridges; and all the time
White-when-he's-wanted was on the wing of the mob, pulling double.
The mares and foals dropped out, the colts and young stock pulled up
dead beat, and only the seasoned veterans were left. Most of our horses
caved in altogether; one or two were kept in the hunt by judicious nursing
and shirking the work; but White-when-he's-wanted was with the quarry
from end to end of the run, doing double his share; and at the finish,
when a chance offered to wheel them into the trapyard, he simply
smothered them for pace, and slewed them into the wings before they knew
where they were. Such a capture had not fallen to our lot for many a day,
and the fame of White-when-he's-wanted was speedily noised abroad.

He was always fit for work, always hungry, always ready
to lie down and roll, and always lazy. But when he heard the rush
of the brumbies' feet in the scrub he became frantic with excitement.